Morning. I free a hair braid, comb smooth the loopy snags of hair rucked up during sleep. Half of my hair falls in a long ripple from my ear to the ends. Cool, slightly damp as I comb it into my gathering hand. Important to get equal thirds. Tension each third carefully to start the braid just behind the top of my ear. I’d worn two braids maybe half a dozen times in my whole life until this summer’s months of day after day hotter than 100. Fingers still a little awkward, but practiced enough not to need help from my eyes. The ponytail elastic double wrapped three times lies just below my collar bone. Then the other side.